Time, A Fickle Friend
by hayleymills
Summary: "Sorry, love, no Harry here. I'm James. James Potter." The girl said nothing—she appeared to be in a severe state of shock. James lifted her easily. "Everything is going to be all right," he murmured into the mystery girl's ear, and headed off toward the Hospital Wing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Please ignore the fact that I haven't updated my Harry/Hermione fic in months. I've had a serious case of writer's block! Don't judge me! **

_**Disclaimer: As much as I would love to be JKR, I'm not. So I don't own anything. Naturally. **_

Hermione darted around a corner, crouching down low and pausing to examine her situation. Currently, she was dueling with the Carrow brother, but his sister was nearby, almost finishing off Parvati Patil. Alecto would be sure to assist her brother in the task of torturing the Mudblood. She wished, desperately, that she could step in to rescue her old school friend, but her own situation proved almost near impossible. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," Amycus called. "Let's see that pretty mud blood all over the castle floor."

Hermione sneered, but leaned against the wall to prepare herself for the next move. She readied her wand. "Miss Mudblood!" A female voice taunted, and Hermione assumed it was none other than Alecto Carrow. "We're getting impatient!"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione spun around, shooting a variety of nonverbal curses flying at the Death Eater siblings. Shocked, they were a little slow on the uptake, and Amycus froze for a fraction of a second, hit by a weak immobilizing spell. "You've got to do better than that!" he yelled, and shot another spell, causing Hermione to put up her own Shield Charm.

Dean Thomas materialized next to her, sporting a swollen lip and a bloody shoulder. She looked at him intently—or as intently as she could while deflecting curses. "Hiya, Hermione," he said, almost cheerfully, and lights flew from the tip of his wand to the Carrow twins.

"Hey, Dean," she managed, just as casually. She shot an Impedimenta at Alecto and she crumpled, almost gracefully, to the ground, her robes pooling around her. It almost seemed to be in slow-motion. Amycus roared, his fat face turning purple and ugly with anger. Hermione took a deep breath and was filled with an overwhelming sensation of dread. Whatever he had planned, it wasn't pretty. She raised her wand, preparing for a simple Protego, but whatever the curse was, it was a fast one.

Hermione was hit square in the chest, and fell forward on her knees with the sheer strength of it. "Hermione!" Dean yelled, and rushed to her side, panicked now. She grasped at her chest with shaking hands; it was growing unbearably hot. Black, shiny boots appeared in her field of vision and she looked up to see Amycus Carrow towering over her. He was sneering.

"See you at Hogwarts, Mudblood," he said, and then the darkness overcame her.

* * *

"Moony, I just don't see what you mean—"

"Sirius, think about it. As much as every girl fancies you, I'm nearly a hundred percent sure that not a single girl in Hogwarts likes being kicked out of your room the next morning."

"Moony's right, mate. Birds are fragile. Just think of Lil—"

The four boys came to a dead halt in the corridor, which was entirely empty except for a still body lying on the floor in front of them. Sirius stared at the figure, which was obviously a girl. Her hair was tied in a braid, with several pieces falling loose. She was wearing rather strange Muggle clothing—jeans that were tight at the bottom, and a purple jacket with a hood and a zipper. She was covered in a multitude of cuts and bruises; and a pretty nasty one above her left eyebrow. Her eyes were closed, and she didn't look like she was breathing. "Remus?" Wormtail asked, looking to the prefect among them. "She looks dead. Should we leave her here or—"

"Peter, shut up!" James exclaimed, stepping forward and pressing two fingers to the girl's neck, just under her chin. "She's alive," he said to his friends, his voice filled with relief. They were on their way back to the dormitories from detention with McGonnagal… he couldn't imagine the sorts of questions that would be asked if they found a strange dead girl in the corridor. "Padfoot, help me carry her to the Hospital Wing," James ordered, kneeling down and sliding an arm under the girl's frail form.

"H-Harry?" a soft voice murmured, and he looked down at the girl in shock. He wasn't expecting her to wake any time soon, let alone speak. The girl made eye contact with him—her eyes were a deep, chocolate brown, much like his own. She gasped, her dark eyes widening in…fear?

"Sorry, love, no Harry here. I'm James. James Potter." He watched as the girl clenched her eyes shut and shook her head vigorously. James looked up at his friends, who were standing rather helplessly. Sirius shrugged, looking sheepish. "I'm going to take you to the Hospital Wing now, okay?" The girl said nothing—she appeared to be in a severe state of shock. James lifted her easily… she weighed practically nothing. "Everything is going to be all right," he murmured into the mystery girl's ear, and headed off toward the Hospital Wing.

* * *

Hermione awoke to a bright, blinding light. She blinked furiously, trying to get her vision back, and took in her surroundings quickly. She was lying in an awfully comfortable bed, covered with white linens. Confused and scared, she scrambled to find her wand, but then let out a small scream when she noticed the figure sitting silently next to her.

Professor Dumbledore.

"What is going on?" She said loudly. "Where is my wand? Give me my wand!" She was shrieking at the man now, almost hysterically, but his face remained impassive as he handed over her wand from the bedside table.

"Please stop shouting, Miss. And it would be in your best interest to lie back down before Madam Pomfrey returns. You have rather extensive damage on your head." As he said this, Hermione felt the shooting pain above her eye—it felt like an extremely intense headache. "I'm Professor Dumbledore."

"I know," she blurted. "Are you a ghost?"

Dumbledore smiled slightly, and chuckled. "I can't say I am. But what is your name, Miss?"

"Tell me what is going on, please," Hermione said softly, leaning back against the pillows and clutching her wand tightly to her chest. She couldn't tell if this whole situation felt like a nightmare or a daydream. She was, for the most part, safe, but in the company of her dead headmaster. "Am I dead?"

The old man chuckled again. "No, you aren't dead. Two nights ago, James Potter and his friends discovered you in our castle. You were semi-conscious, and as Mr. Potter and Mr. Black explained it, you seemed extremely delirious. You said something about someone named Harry. I visited you myself, but you were still unconscious. So, I will ask you again. What is your name, and why are you in our school?" He sounded almost angry, and Hermione had to take a few deep breaths to process the information. _James Potter? Mr. Black? _

What in Merlin's name did that Death Eater hit her with?

Judging by the tone of Dumbledore's voice, she decided that honesty was the best policy. "The story I'm about to tell you will probably violate every rule ever written, so I'm asking that you keep this information to yourself, sir. I believe that I have time-traveled involuntarily from the year 1998. My name is Hermione Granger. I was dueling one of Voldemort's supporters, and I was hit with a curse. And then I woke up here."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. " A time travel curse? I believe we will have to research that." He paused. "Where were you traveling from?"

"Exactly the same place that I appeared, I would expect. The second floor Transfiguration corridor." Dumbledore looked down, deep in thought. "Sir, I have to get back. My friends need me, and the battle—"

"Miss Granger, I am afraid that there is no returning to your own time until more research can be conducted on the curse that brought you here to us. In the meantime, however, I believe that it is in your best interest to continue your education while you are here. What year were you in?"

"Seventh, professor. I was a Gryffindor."

"You will start tomorrow. Although, I believe you should take on a new name, as people will be sure to recognize you in your future. I think a change of surname should suffice."

"Hermione Miller," she said, after a moment of hesitation, thinking of her childhood friend from Muggle primary school. Rachael Miller.

"Miss Miller," Dumbledore said softly, probably testing to see if the made-up surname sounded convincing. "Yes, that's quite all right. You will start classes tomorrow morning. I think it's best to inform the other students that you are a transfer from America." He closed the door of the wing, and Hermione Granger—no, Miller—was alone in the Hospital with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: Positive response. Loving it.**

"Padfoot," James said softly, tapping his friend hard on the shoulder.

Sirius winced. "Sheesh, Prongs. Let up a tad, will you?" Nevertheless, Sirius followed James' gaze to the doors of the Great Hall, where several people were entering. He rolled his eyes and returned to his breakfast, taking a large bite of a sausage link. "I've already seen your precious Lily-flower this morning, remember? You nearly assaulted her in the common room." Sirius wasn't sure why he was so irritated with his best friend. It wasn't his obsession with the gorgeous Lily Evans—he had been dealing with that since second year.

Or maybe it was the confidence with which he had taken care of that small, broken girl two nights ago. He had been slightly jealous of the way James had carried her in his arms and the way she had clung to him as if her life depended on it.

He, Remus, and Peter had stood there like right prats while James played the hero.

"Sirius. Look."

He turned to the Great Hall entrance again, exasperated, but still looking a little more intently. There was Snivellus, giving Peter a hard time. Little Mary MacDonald, staring wistfully at him and James. And then, there she was.

The girl from the corridor.

She looked different, Sirius noted. Good different. She looked more like a real person in Hogwarts robes, clutching her books to her chest in that Prefect-like way that Moony always did. Her brown hair, instead of being all over the place in wispy flywaways, was neatly pinned into a curly ponytail. She looked brighter, more alive—but even from a distance Sirius noticed that her eyes seemed…lost. "I'm going to go introduce myself," he said abruptly, standing up quickly and nearly knocking over his plate.

_Maybe I can redeem myself from the other night. _

Sirius strode over to the girl, who was making a home for herself and her textbooks at the end of the Gryffindor table. "Hello, love," he said happily, sitting down across from the girl. She jumped, almost comically, and eyed him suspiciously. "I see you're finding your way around alright." He outstretched a hand. "Sirius Orion Black, the third, at your service."

A ghost of a smile passed her lips. "Hermione Miller, the first."

"Where did you come from, Miss Hermione Miller the first?" Sirius asked, pouring a glass of orange juice and setting it in front of her. She looked absolutely famished, but she had no food in front of her. She eyed him warily, sniffed the juice, and then took a drink with caution. Sirius couldn't decide if he wanted to fling it on her or burst out laughing. _What kind of person actually did things like that?_

"I'm a transfer from the Salem Witches Institute in America."

Sirius eyed James, who was winking at him and giving him obnoxious thumbs-ups from the other end of the long Gryffindor table. He ignored his best friend. "So, why lovely old Hogwarts? Did you hear about the strapping young lads that walked the halls?"

Hermione gave him a pointed look, but then rolled her eyes. "Not exactly. Look, that's another story for another day. Now, if you've finished with your piteous attempt at flirting with me, I have classes to be getting to."

As she walked quickly away, bag slung over her shoulder, Sirius stood and yelled after her. "I will win you over, if that's the last thing I ever do!" He hadn't been expecting a response, and he didn't get one… she walked quickly away, the heels of her shoes clicking on the marble floor.

Seconds later, Sirius reclaimed his seat between James and Remus. James turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Well?"

"She'll be in love with me by the end of the month."

* * *

Hermione reached her first lesson—Double Potions with Ravenclaw—after stopping to 'ask directions' twice on the way. This pretending to American was a much more frustrating ordeal than she had imagined. Three times at breakfast, Hermione was asked about American wizard bands, and the names were so obscure that she couldn't even remember them twenty minutes later. Hermione consciously overlooked all of the quirks about Hogwarts she had learned in her seven years there. She tried to see the castle through the eyes of an outsider. She stared at the enchanted ceiling in mock awe, in addition to asking random fourth years for directions.

And the whole Marauders business.

When she had been made crazy by war, it was one thing. But Sirius Black blatantly flirting with her at breakfast that morning? Hermione wasn't sure how much of that she could handle.

Walking into the all-too-familiar Potions classroom, Hermione started toward her normal seat in the middle of the room, but quickly noticed that there was already someone sitting there. Red hair gleamed brightly, and Hermione was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. Her stomach churning, Hermione kept her head down and took the seat behind Harry's mother.

"Hi," a voice said, and Hermione looked up with wide eyes, only to find _Harry's eyes _staring back at her. "I'm Lily." She had a soft voice, a pretty face, and a kind smile.

"Hermione," she replied, forcing her face into one of friendliness. Hermione's heart was slowly shriveling as she remembered her best friend, stuck back in a time where she no longer exited. She had no idea whether he was alive or dead.

"You're from America, right? I think you'll be in our dormitory. A new bed just appeared in there this morning," Lily said, picking up her books and moving to the seat next to Hermione. "You're the talk of the school today. We don't get new students very often."

Hermione just shrugged and looked sheepish. "Well, I appreciate you saying hello. Everyone has mostly just stared at me like I have two heads. I've been here nearly three hours, and you're only the second person to introduce yourself."

"Who was the first?"

Hermione forced herself not to say his name right away. "Some boy with dark hair in his eyes. His surname might have been Grey?"

"Sirius Black?" Hermione noticed that Lily said his name with a tinge of disgust. She knew this—Lily hated the Marauders, more than anything...until she and James got together. _You can't be thinking those sorts of things, Hermione, _she reprimanded herself. The fact that she was in a completely different era could mess up all sorts of things.

"Oh, right. That's him. He's very…eccentric, isn't he?"

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I don't suppose you've met his friends?" Hermione shook her head. "They're all wildly immature. Playing pranks all the time. James Potter—he's the one with the glasses—he's been asking me out twice a day for the past three years. He hasn't seemed to have gotten the hint." Lily turned toward the doorway of the Potions classroom. "Speak of the devils."

Four boys soon surrounded the tabletop—James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Hermione took a deep breath, and smiled politely. "My precious Lily-flower," James said, looking at Lily over the tops of his round glasses. He took her hand and kissed it, and she snatched it away, wiping it on her robes. James turned to Hermione. "Hermione, was it? You're looking much better." He outstretched a hand. "James Potter. Nice to meet you." The brunette couldn't help but notice how drastically different Harry and James were.

"You too."

James was pushed aside by Sirius, who leaned an elbow on the desk and stared into Hermione's face, as if mesmerized.

She wanted to hit him.

"Miss Hermione Miller the first," he drawled. "Have you thought any more about my offer?"

"Your offer? It sounded more like a declaration to me."

"Right, have you finished with your pissing contest, boys?" Lily interjected. "Hermione and I have a class to prepare for.

Remus, looking extremely young, outstretched his hand, quickly and politely. "My name is Remus. I apologize for my friends' behavior ahead of time. They're gits most of the time." Hermione smiled. She could definitely tolerate Remus' calm, almost professional demeanor. She heard someone quickly clearing their throat from behind the rest of the boys. "Oh, and this is Peter," Remus said, gesturing to the small, mousy boy behind him. Hermione felt disgusting even looking at him, but she quickly waved hello and turned to her parchment.

"We'll see you around," Sirius said, winking, and the boys took the table directly in front of her and Lily.

_Oh boy, _Hermione thought to herself. _This decade is going to be interesting._


End file.
